In the Winds of Change
by forthecoast
Summary: When Oliver discovers that Sandra did not actually lose the baby and his mother paid her off to disappear, things don't go exactly as expected. Felicity opens his eyes to things he hadn't considered in a long time. Based on speculation for S3.


**Title:** In the Winds of Change  
**Category:** Oliver/Felicity  
**Rating:** G  
**Word Count:** 1,580  
**Summary:** When Oliver discovers that Sandra did not actually lose the baby and his mother paid her off to disappear, things don't go exactly as expected. Felicity opens his eyes to things he hadn't considered in a long time. Based on speculation for S3.  
**Spoilers:** 2x20  
**Notes:** There's been a lot of talk about what might happen when the baby subplot that was introduced in episode 2x20 comes up again in S3. I admit that I'm not especially looking forward to that plot just because it isn't something I usually like in my dramas and I've been burned by similar subplots in the past, so I've been trying to consider ways this could play out that might be interesting for me. This is one of my theories. After talking it out with lizook12, effie214, puzzledhats, and itsalwaysfour, I decided to turn it into fic and this was the end result.

I'm sure the show will take it in an entirely different direction, but I hope you all enjoy anyway :)

xxxxx

When Oliver gets back to Starling City, the first thing he does is head to the foundry. It's a reflex more than anything, the desire to channel his restless energy into something he can control instead of focusing on all the things he can't.

It's just after 1:00 on a Tuesday, so he isn't expecting company when he enters the space that was once his completely unknown second hideout. He notices Felicity immediately though, sitting in her familiar spot at the computers. She looks completely relaxed and in her element with her heels kicked off under the table and her legs tucked up underneath her. Her headphones are in and she's humming along with whatever song is playing. It's a cheerful, upbeat tune, and he smiles as she bobs her head in time with the music. He imagines this is the picture of those late nights at MIT she speaks about so fondly.

Oliver finds himself wishing—not for the first time—that he had known her then, even if he knows she probably wouldn't have liked him very much. He expects that she would have been a force to contend with even as a 17 year old freshman, and she wouldn't have had the time of day for anyone like him if the stories of her lacrosse stalker are anything to go by.

She's completely in the zone with whatever she's working on, so Oliver knows he can slip out and she'll never be any the wiser. He can go back to his apartment and do a modified work out at the gym there, or he can see if maybe Walter can meet with him about the final details they need to sort out in his bid to regain control of his family's company, his parents' legacy. The idea has become even more important to him now than it was before. But instead, he crosses the floor of the foundry on impulse, taking long, easy strides until he can place a gentle hand on her shoulder to alert her of his presence.

She startles, ripping her headphones out and spinning around in her chair, but she relaxes instantly when she registers that it's only him.

"Oliver!" she exclaims, one hand over her chest as her breathing returns to normal. "You aren't supposed to be here!"

He smirks and raises an eyebrow in response. "It's the middle of the work day," he says, making an exaggerated gesture toward his watch. "I could say the same thing for you."

"One of the benefits of my new gig with ARGUS," she replies, motioning absently to the four different computer screens in front of her. "I'm multitasking. Don't try to distract me. Aren't you supposed to be in Central City for the rest of the week?"

"I decided to cut the trip short." Oliver wonders how he's supposed to explain the situation to her when he hasn't come to terms with any of it himself yet. It seems that every time he gets one part of his life under control, something crops up in another part of his life and he's constantly playing catch up with no end in sight.

Felicity drops her legs to the floor and sits up straight, the look on her face half concerned and half curious. "Did you talk to Sandra?" she asks finally.

"I did." He nods, letting out a long, low breath as he collects his thoughts. Ever since Felicity first brought this to his attention when she was reviewing some old financial records, he's thought of little else, but here, with her, putting it into words makes it seem real in a way it hasn't yet. "You were right that my mother paid her off to tell me that she lost the baby. I don't know if it mattered in the end because I got on the Queen's Gambit before he was even born, but I can't help wondering..."

"If things might have been different if you'd known," she finishes for him, finding the words when he can't find them himself.

As much as he's tried to live in the moment, tried not to dwell on things that can't be changed, this one stings more than most. "I wanted to make up for lost time," Oliver runs his hand along the back of his neck as if the pain he's feeling is physical. If only it were, then he might be able to deal with it. Instead, he just feels lost and bereft. "I wanted to be his father, but it turns out that he already has one. Sandra got married when Connor was about a year old, and Mark adopted him not long after that. She let me meet him, but I couldn't... Mark is his father, I couldn't take that away from him. Especially not given what we do here."

"Don't say another word about that, Oliver Queen." Felicity raises her eyebrows and folds her arms emphatically across her chest, and he can hear the beginnings of her loud voice in her tone, a clear sign that he needs to stop talking and pay attention. "I don't want to hear another word about why you can't be there for your son because of what we do here. If you don't want to interfere with the relationship he has with Mark because Mark has always been his father and that's what's best for Connor, then I fully encourage that. Be Connor's cool friend Oliver, if that's how things need to be. But don't use what we do here as an excuse. What we do is important and you know I believe that, but it isn't an excuse for us to avoid living our own lives. I see you do the impossible every night, Oliver. If you want something, the only thing holding you back is _you_."

He can't completely process her impassioned speech in the moment, but he does feel as though the weight he's been carrying around for the past few days has lightened at least slightly. "I do make a pretty good 'cool friend Oliver,'" he says, his lips curling up in a half-smile.

"You're the coolest friend Oliver I have. Then again, you're also the only friend Oliver I have, but let's not focus on that."

There's a slight lull in the conversation after that, but it isn't an uncomfortable one. Oliver can see a number of questions on the tip of her tongue, but she isn't going to pressure him into saying anything he isn't ready for yet. She never has.

"It _is_ the right thing for Connor," he says finally. "I'm not his father; Mark is. But I did tell Sandra that I would still like to be a part of his life."

"And what did she say?"

"That she thought that would be okay with her and Mark."

Felicity smiles up at him, all relief and encouragement. Sometimes he thinks if he could bottle the feeling he gets when she looks at him that way, it would be the most potent drug he'd have on hand.

"That's great, Oliver," she says. "I know it isn't what you wanted, but the fact that you want to do what's best for Connor even if it isn't what you wanted yourself tells me that you're going to be a great father one day if that's something you decide you want."

Oliver doesn't know what he does or doesn't want most days other than to make it through another twenty four hours without someone else he cares about being hurt, but more and more with Felicity he finds himself wondering what he might want if he allowed himself to.

One of the monitors behind her beeps three times in rapid succession, and Felicity turns to study the screen. "Ah, I should probably head back to ARGUS now," she says. "But if you want to come over later and have a movie marathon or something, I'm sure I could talk Digg into it. Lyla's been grumbling about how she'd like a night to herself lately anyway."

"I, uh, haven't told Diggle yet," Oliver admits reluctantly. "There really wasn't time before I left, and he and Lyla are so excited about the baby that I didn't think it would really be appropriate."

"There is no appropriate or inappropriate with this kind of thing. Digg's your friend and I'm sure he'd want to be here for you. Have you told anyone else?"

He shakes his head. "Just you," he says because he can't explain why he never told Diggle, not really. He simply never felt the need to when he'd already told her.

When she stands up and hugs him, she whispers, "You don't have to go through this alone, Oliver," in his ear, and he holds her just a few moments longer than is necessary because he isn't ready to let go yet.

Long after the door closes behind her and the steady echo of her heels has faded into silence in her wake, Oliver finds himself considering the possibility of allowing himself to want something he long ago decided he could never have.

Three weeks later on the maternity floor of Starling City General Hospital, Felicity smiles at him while holding Caroline Michaels Diggle for the first time, and Oliver knows exactly what it is that he wants. It's been right in front of him for some time now, but he wasn't ready to see it yet.

Now, he can't imagine anything else.


End file.
